The Fisher King

The Fisher King is a well-known dredger who is believed to have the secrets to a piece of forgotten human technology. Statements he has made could go either way in the matter — some believe him to be a madman who hints at greatness for the sake of attention, while others take the desperation in his ravings as proof of their truth.

He has never divulged the nature of the technology, though given the locations where he's looked and the claims of the companies once headquartered in those areas, it may be some sort of Neural Interface.

It is a general consensus that Neural Technology is impossible.

Tuesday. It's the day we take food and water to the mudman. He's a pain to find every time, but thankfully there's usually something worth looking for in the area he's at.

After consulting around the docks to see who'd seen him where and when, we took off down into the south bay and followed along the coast until we found his dingy docked to the top of a tower. He was sitting on the deck, expression dour and eyelids drooping. His skin was caked with a leather of dried mud — I could hardly tell where the edges of his clothes were.

"Were you out all night again?" One of us asked him.

"Mmm. Only time worth looking for it."

"For what?"

"Mmmh..." he said, waving us away. We boarded regardless, patiently stacking his cupboard with our hard-stolen food and filling his bottles with purified water. He washed his hands in a bucket of dirty water, exposing skin leathered and stained a thousand times by the sun. His face came next, grey eyes peering out from under a deep and bushy brow.

We ate our sandwiches in silent, and he bade us well when we left

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Type

Informal